


A Study of Boredom

by NoPajamasGurl



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Bored Sherlock, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-26
Updated: 2014-01-26
Packaged: 2018-01-10 03:07:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1154020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoPajamasGurl/pseuds/NoPajamasGurl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You came because you wanted to see me. You came because you are still in love with me. You came because you care about me." Sherlock stood abruptly, knocking Molly back. He caught her by the shoulders. He didn't remove his hands. "And those are all the exact reasons why I called you here."</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Study of Boredom

**Author's Note:**

> Judge me. This took me, like, half an hour. So it’s horrid. Forgive me. But also critique me. This is set during Season 3, my very favorite season because of SHERLOLLY. Also, there is no such thing as Tom in this little drabble. Pretend with me. 
> 
> *Originally posted to Tumblr to my joint-blog, thesociopathandhispathologist. *shameless plug* Haha.*

He was bored. It wasn’t uncommon. There wasn’t a case (or maybe Donovan was working without Lestrade today). And John was with Mary. John seemed to be with Mary a lot lately.

Since when was Sherlock Holmes delegated to the bottom of the list?

Oh, but there was always…

Sherlock sat up straight on the sofa, his phone already at his ear. She would help him. She always helped him.

“‘Lo?”

"Dr. Hooper."

"Sherlock!" Her voice was a pitch higher than normal and Sherlock smiled broadly. Oh, this would be easy.

"Dr. Hooper, come to 221B Baker Street, if convenient."

There was a crash. Glass. A test tube. Molly cursed softly in his ear. It did strange, though not entirely unpleasant, things to him.

"If not convenient, come anyway." His voice was a pitch lower than normal. Damn her.

"Sherlock-"

"I’m waiting." He hung up.

Now, he only had to contemplate patience. Sherlock leaned back on the sofa again, steepled his fingers beneath his chin, and excused himself to his mind palace.

**

Molly knew that Sherlock was aware of her presence even before she entered his flat. Maybe it was when Mrs. Hudson let her in, or even when she pulled up in the cab. Either way, he didn’t acknowledge her standing in the doorway.

Molly also knew better than to disturb Sherlock while he was in his mind palace, but that didn’t stop her from marching over to him as loudly as possible and disturbing him anyway. Gone - or, at least, tucked away at the moment - was mousy Molly Hooper.

"I was working, Sherlock.”

"And now you are not," he remarked. He didn’t open his eyes to look at her, didn’t move. Didn’t have to, to see her annoyance.

Molly clenched her fists at her sides, glaring down at him. “I thought it was an emergency.”

"I didn’t say it was, Dr. Hooper."

Dr. Hooper. He was mocking her. This fueled her anger. “You can’t just ask me to drop whatever I’m doing, especially work, and come babysit you!”

Sherlock opened his eyes now, but he still didn’t move. The grey was sharp as ever and swallowing Molly whole. She tried not to shrink away. He tried not to let himself feel hurt by her desire to shrink away. “Yet here you are.”

"I thought it was an emergency," she repeated lamely, looking away. Damn him.

"You came because you wanted to see me. You came because you are still in love with me. You came because you care about me." Sherlock stood abruptly, knocking Molly back. He caught her by the shoulders. He didn’t remove his hands. "And those are all the exact reasons why I called you here."

Molly had to squash down the warmth that spread throughout his chest. She knew better than to believe in sentiment from Sherlock Holmes. “I know that John is with Mary.”

Sherlock’s brow furrowed. “How did-“

"It doesn’t matter." Molly pushed Sherlock’s hands off and he let her only because he was impressed by her forwardness. She locked her hands together in front of her. "What do you need?"

The question jolted her. His mind jumbled briefly, pushing him backwards in time. To a similar situation. He made himself focus on the present and Molly was looking up at him expectantly. Kindly. Selflessly. Sherlock swallowed thickly. “Molly, I…”

Curious. Sherlock Holmes, speechless. Molly tried to recall a time that that had happened before. Probably. But she couldn’t concentrate. Not when Sherlock looked so conflicted. She reached from him, taking his hands and pushing so he sat back down. She followed to sit beside him, angling herself in his direction. Feeling bold, she brushed her fingers across his cheekbone.

The action brought him back and the grey snapped to her face, making her jump. “What is it?” she asked worriedly.

Sherlock leaned back, dragging his hands down to his trousers to rest on his knees. “A man is found - dead, of course - face down in his kitchen. There are traces of wax-“

Molly made an exasperated noise in the back of her throat and fell back against the back of the sofa. This did not seem to discourage Sherlock, as he continued his descriptions and deductions of a case that he obviously had just made up. Or obviously to her at least. Oh, he was an arse. He was only bored.

Molly didn’t have to say anything during these spiels and her inactivity threw her straight into a nap. It wasn’t until she fell sideways and her head knocked against his shoulder that Sherlock noticed that her attention had long since strayed.

He opened his mouth to wake her, but she burrowed into his arm and he found that he thought it was endearing. Sherlock wrinkled his nose. When was Molly Hooper ever endearing to Sherlock Holmes?  
Often, it seemed as of late.

Molly muttered in her sleep. Endearing. Sherlock pursed his lips, his eyes subconsciously cataloging all of her features for future reference into his mind palace.

"What do you need?"

Sherlock laid back, careful not to disturb his pathologist. Did she dream of him?

"You," Sherlock muttered to 221B Baker Street. "You, of course, Molly Hooper."

**Author's Note:**

> Much love,
> 
> \- Kayla


End file.
